


lost in the echo

by IsleofSolitude



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Violence, Prompt Fic, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26178976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsleofSolitude/pseuds/IsleofSolitude
Summary: There was a little girl with drying tear stains on her dirty face as War walked down the road.[She] stopped and stood in front of her, traced red fingers on her face to brush back a lock of hair.
Relationships: War & Tracy
Kudos: 19
Collections: GO Events NTA 7 - Rare Pairs





	lost in the echo

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the gomens event server Name that other round 7: rare pairs. title taken from "lost in the echo" by linkin park.
> 
> Thanks to amypound and annathehank for beta reading.

War laughed, the echoing sounds of violence around her. The air was bloody and thick and sour on her tongue, and she was drunk on it.

There was a little girl with drying tear stains on her dirty face as War walked down the road.

War stopped and stood in front of her, traced red fingers on her face to brush back a lock of hair. “You gonna remember this, kid?”

The girl looked at her, thumb falling from her mouth. Nodded.

“Good. Pass it on, the pain, the glory! Let this shape you.”

The girl reached up and tugged on War’s bloody hair, hummed, and watched her go. 

* * *

The little girl grew into a big girl, and then an adult. The smell of that day had long faded from the back of her throat, and the sounds only came every fifth nightmare, which was progress. She considered herself lucky. There were still times where her nerves betrayed her, but she learned to school her face, her body, her mind.

Laughter was a deciding factor. Love was the straw on the camel’s back.

Her adult years were a fight.

She fought with herself, weeping long bouts of despair.

She fought with poverty, working until her body almost gave out.

She fought with lovers, trying to find a give and take that made sense

She fought with the law, and their brutal and dehumanizing ways.

She fought with the public, when they spat on the outcasts and broken.

She fought, and she hurt, and she got back up and made her own spot.

Her weapon of choice was kindness, though she packed a mean wallop of generosity.

* * *

She never gave up on the puzzle, of fitting and refitting all the broken pieces that she tenderly gathered close to her heart.

No piece of her soul was forsaken by her past, and she considered that her greatest victory.

No one would take that from her, not even an angel. She wrenched control back from her ethereal friend and fired the gun into the air.

* * *

War laughed at the little girl who stood in front of her. She had seen a million like these in her time, misguided youth who let their childish passion burn them into dogmatic darlings.

Such as the woman standing in the background, unimportant and in over her head, just as she had been as a toddler. War wasn’t always able to place them, but she had placed her mark on that one. Nothing had come of it, though she had hoped, though she had checked in a few times when the emotions flared right. What a disappointment. 

* * *

Tracy had not realized how much she had needed peace until a little child taught her.


End file.
